Elephant Woman
by vague.poppyseed
Summary: Temari has always despised sweet, soft things. TemariHinata implicitexplicit yuri


**Elephant Woman**

(A/N) Coincidentally I listened to Blonde Redhead's song called "Elephant Woman"

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Ever since she'd been a child, chubby, innocuous and chaste, Temari has always despised sweet looking, soft things like cuddly teddy bears. She refused to cuddle with them at night and would curl away from their shiny black button eyes. Once, when her uncle Yashamaru had bought her a velvety purple rabbit with long ears she had rendered it blind and deaf by ripping out its ears and plucking out its eyes.

However, contradictory to her earlier behavior, when Yashamaru tried to throw the rabbit away, Temari wouldn't let him.

Temari, even as a child, hated sweet, soft things. Nothing about her is soft, or sweet, so perhaps this is where the loathing had spawned. Her dirty blonde hair was not soft, but rough like animal hair; her eyes are slices of dark green that are almost black, her skin is rough and calloused from sand and fighting and blood that will never go away.

She doesn't smile, she smirks and mocks and grins and bears her teeth in a frightening wolfish way. She is curvy, yes, but lean with muscle and dangerous like a jungle cat and just as vicious as a wolverine. She is deathly intelligent and ruthless, and she hardly cries.

So why is it she is here now? In the darkness, there is a soft frame (she felt like hitting her), and a sweet look (she felt like she needs to rip her eyes out just like her rabbit) on her face.

Temari had left her fan at the apartment where her brothers and she were staying at, the Kazekage and his siblings having been invited to the fireworks' festival. She has no weapons, and she knows that the one in front of her is unarmed, harmless; defenseless. It makes her seem even more fragile and vulnerable.

Temari walked closer to look at her in the dim lighting, the scratchy robe she'd been forced to wear irritating her and making her mood all the more foul. The soft, supple frame before her walked closer until she was under the streetlight.

White eyes and pale skin, a white kimono with soft yellow flowers and geta sandals – Temari's hands itch to go around her neck and squeeze a little. Hinata smiled a little, cocked her head and waved shyly.

Temari can't hold on to it anymore.

Perhaps this is what made her younger brother so wild and frenzied during his younger years – was this, what she was currently feeling, what he had felt so many times? An unruly, violent emotion so overpowering that she shook – Temari surged forward and snagged Hinata's shoulder with a powerful hand.

She dragged her from the eyes of the public and into a dark alleyway where Temari could still see her – _because she was that soft and pale_.

"T-Temari?" a soft inquiry and concerned eyes, a small white hand touched Temari's cheek. "What's" –

Temari crushed her and silenced her and poured her hate into her orally. She kissed her too hard because the blonde could taste blood. Temari shifted and turned her head and bit down on her lip. Hinata yelped and pushed at her a little but Temari was doughty and bit her lip harder.

A hand tugged at her hair but Temari could ignore it, and tugged at Hinata's well tied obi to slither a hand under her kimono to leave bruises.

Lips trailed over a long column of pale skin, and nibbled to leave pink and red and purple splotches on white shoulders, and Temari leaves her mark in more than one way in the view of the public, but hidden.

Hinata shuddered and collapsed – as though she's a neutron star – and leaned into Temari's neck, breathing heavily. Temari felt better and ran her tongue over the shell of Hinata's ear. Her skin isn't so soft anymore, but slick, and Temari doesn't mind slick, and Hinata doesn't seem so sweet with the way her nails are digging into Temari's shoulders and back.

These things are things Temari can easily tolerate.

Hinata shifted to place a quick kiss on Temari's cheek and she sighed softly.

Temari ran her tongue over her teeth and pressed Hinata more firmly against the wall, forcing the girl to lock her legs around Temari's narrow hips. Her teeth clamp down on Hinata's collarbone and dig in. Hinata screams, but the fireworks are already in the air and bursting so no one really hears her, and her nails, well groomed and pretty dig in to Temari's skin. Temari could have smiled then.

Even as a child, Temari has always hated sweet, soft things.

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End


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